


In A Blaze Of Glory

by sgtcyanide221b



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Family Member Death, Fire, Gen, Papa and Mama Moriarty death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-28
Updated: 2013-09-28
Packaged: 2017-12-27 21:25:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/983792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sgtcyanide221b/pseuds/sgtcyanide221b
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At the age of ten, James Moriarty committed his first murders. Can it all end in a blaze of glory? The deaths of the two people he owes his very life to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In A Blaze Of Glory

**Author's Note:**

> As part of my headcanon on Tumblr, Jim killed his mother and father in a house fire at the age of ten, and here's the result of trying to put it into words.

Little James Moriarty was ten years old, and smarter than most ten year olds. He’d seen what had been happening between his parents for longer than they had anticipated. He had watched his father’s heart be shattered and then rebuilt and shattered all over again, by the woman who had claimed to love him, and a woman who had sworn herself to him. 

Their announcement of the divorce hadn’t surprised the boy, however, he had forced himself to act surprised, force his face into a mask of indifference, ignoring the fury which burned inside of him, as he looked up into the wide, seemingly innocent brown eyes. 

The announcement had come at the time when Jim was eight weeks old, at least their consideration of divorce. Now, at ten years old, Jim had had two years to develop and come to terms with the situation. Not that he had succeeded. His mind had focused on the manner in which the divorce had come about. Mother cheating on his father with all range of men. He wanted to make her pay for causing his father such pain, however, at his age, there was nothing that he was able to do. He was overlooked, family chose to ignore his existence for the most part. 

The morning of James’ ten birthday dawned, and his mind was made up. He made his way down to breakfast, his mind made up. In silence, the young boy opened his gifts, went about the routine without so much as uttering a word to his mother, swallowing hard as his father spoke to him. He refused to answer, inclining his head in response. A question regarding schooling. Of course, that wouldn’t matter. Not in the long run. 

It was late in the afternoon, his gifts, the small pile of belongings were opened, and forgotten about. Save for one, the LP which his father bought for him. Jim had spent the day keeping the vinyl disk clutched to his chest, tailing his father around the house, and contemplating changing his mind about what he was about to do…

Evening came. A faint glow on the horizon as the sun lowered in the early winter sky. November was just beginning, but, as the youngster sat and watched the sun set, for his mother, at the very least, things were coming to an end. One last day of peace for his family, before it ended in a blaze of glory.

How it was to happen, Jim had planned it for weeks, thinking over the ways in which it would be possible. He hadn’t planned on it happening the way it did. 

His parents had always worried about his fascination with fire. However, for Jim, fire had always had a cleansing quality. Leave no trace of what had remained. Each year around Christmas he and his father would light a fire in their backyard, and sit and watch the stars together.

Now, the fire was going to cleanse another stain, a stain of humanity and a stain on his life. Father and Ma were in the sitting room, discussing some novel or other which father was reading, in between his marking of assignments from the university. 

He was supposed to be out, to be away from the house at some meeting, or another, Jim hadn’t paid nearly enough attention in recent days. Now, there was no taking it back. This was the moment he had to act. If not, she would survive, inflicting her continued existence on everyone.

———————————————————————————————————————

The screams would haunt Jim until his dying day. The heart-wrenching screams of his mother, as she pounded on the window, as she tried to escape. His father, was asleep in bed when the fire started, bedroom door locked, and his father unconscious with the high intake of alcohol into his system. Started the blaze in the sitting room as his mother dozed, dropping lit matches onto one of the heavily upholstered chairs, and various other places throughout the ground floor of the home, hoping it would suffice and spread. 

James was outside of the house, locking doors, and windows, making sure that there would be no escape, no way in which she could get away. It was with a sick sense of pride that Jim sat at the fire pit in the backyard, watching the blaze, the gift from his father, the final piece of communication between the two of them, clutched to his chest, the tears drying on his cheeks. Now, finally, he could be at ease.


End file.
